January 27
We just returned to Casa Misericordia from our trip to Altar. I am so filled with images and thoughts. There was undeniably a sinister air about Altar though the CCAMYN center for refugees, where we stayed, stood out like an oasis in the desert. The accommodations for the migrants were clean and new and the meeting/meal room itself was beautiful and spacious.
This morning we went to the Catholic Church (the only church in town) for mass and the children were the choir and the lectors. It was a ray of sunshine to hear their beautiful and powerful voices in this church when only moments before we were interviewing migrants and watching out for the coyote in the square outside. It was one of the strangest things I have ever seen. Picture this town only a few blocks square with a central square at the hub. On one side of the square is a church and on the other three sides are openfronted shops selling either ready-to-go food or hats, coats and rucksacks (all black for heat absorption and cammouflage). Roving the square are small groups of migrants (all men and boys that day and due to the cold and rainy weather, not as many as the 1200-1500 usually passing through). The coyotes carefully watch their groups from fixed positions on the corner or nearby. They eye us with a mixture of scowls and distrust.
When we walked around the square telling the migrants about CCAMYN and asking them questions, I was watching for the coyote. Brita (our professor) asked me how I recognized them and I told her about how they stayed fixed to one place and would go over to the group we had talked with and then returned to their position. I also said I had noticed their energy.
And then, at 10AM the church bells began to ring and everyone filed into the church. Regular members, children, migrants, coyotes and our band of seminarians and professors. Truce! It was miraculous - for that entire hour everyone was Catholic and prayerful. The children sang like angels, the priest gave a lighthearted but spirit-filled sermon, people commmuned - and there were no borders, no migrant or resident, just God's children gathered together as one family.
When it was over, the priest introduced us to the parish and we went up front to speak to the congregation and they applauded us. But we all felt that they deserved the applause for keeping a faith in such a place.
Afterward he escorted us to a boarding house where the migrants stay in their short time. It was horrific and he said that this one was one of the better and cleaner (there are no "ratas y cucarachas" there). The accommodations weren’t much better than the Amistad bulkhead.
Traveling so much and so far in this cramped van has really taken a toll on my back and legs. There are three of us who have L5S1 problems and we call each other the L5 club. We are all taking care of each other but it is hard. Our only consolation is that we know that the migrants have to travel in rougher conditions than we have, sometimes 20 or 30 in the same size van as we cram the 14 of us and our equipment.
We just returned to Casa Misericordia from our trip to Altar. I am so filled with images and thoughts. There was undeniably a sinister air about Altar though the CCAMYN center for refugees, where we stayed, stood out like an oasis in the desert. The accommodations for the migrants were clean and new and the meeting/meal room itself was beautiful and spacious.
This morning we went to the Catholic Church (the only church in town) for mass and the children were the choir and the lectors. It was a ray of sunshine to hear their beautiful and powerful voices in this church when only moments before we were interviewing migrants and watching out for the coyote in the square outside. It was one of the strangest things I have ever seen. Picture this town only a few blocks square with a central square at the hub. On one side of the square is a church and on the other three sides are openfronted shops selling either ready-to-go food or hats, coats and rucksacks (all black for heat absorption and cammouflage). Roving the square are small groups of migrants (all men and boys that day and due to the cold and rainy weather, not as many as the 1200-1500 usually passing through). The coyotes carefully watch their groups from fixed positions on the corner or nearby. They eye us with a mixture of scowls and distrust.
When we walked around the square telling the migrants about CCAMYN and asking them questions, I was watching for the coyote. Brita (our professor) asked me how I recognized them and I told her about how they stayed fixed to one place and would go over to the group we had talked with and then returned to their position. I also said I had noticed their energy.
And then, at 10AM the church bells began to ring and everyone filed into the church. Regular members, children, migrants, coyotes and our band of seminarians and professors. Truce! It was miraculous - for that entire hour everyone was Catholic and prayerful. The children sang like angels, the priest gave a lighthearted but spirit-filled sermon, people commmuned - and there were no borders, no migrant or resident, just God's children gathered together as one family.
When it was over, the priest introduced us to the parish and we went up front to speak to the congregation and they applauded us. But we all felt that they deserved the applause for keeping a faith in such a place.
Afterward he escorted us to a boarding house where the migrants stay in their short time. It was horrific and he said that this one was one of the better and cleaner (there are no "ratas y cucarachas" there). The accommodations weren’t much better than the Amistad bulkhead.
Traveling so much and so far in this cramped van has really taken a toll on my back and legs. There are three of us who have L5S1 problems and we call each other the L5 club. We are all taking care of each other but it is hard. Our only consolation is that we know that the migrants have to travel in rougher conditions than we have, sometimes 20 or 30 in the same size van as we cram the 14 of us and our equipment.
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